


Martin Blackwood Is Turning Invisible (Whoops)

by ghostphone



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, M/M, No beta we kayak like Tim, can't think of much off the top of my head but I'll add more tags as I go, dont expect literature here, im a sucker for those, im genuinely just writing this for funsies, jon can do magic, jonmartin, magic au but like poorly thought out, magic au sorta
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:46:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 9,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27622912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostphone/pseuds/ghostphone
Summary: The Lonely has taken Martin Blackwood. He wouldn't have minded too bad, not really. Not if it wasn't for the fact that he was slowly fading from reality, that is. He has to get help, of the magical variety. Enter Jonathan Sims, a powerful magic user who just might be able to help out.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 27
Kudos: 103





	1. Well, this is inconvenient.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I really like all the fantasy aus I've seen on here, and wanted to put my own spin on it!

It took Martin Blackwood about a week to notice that he was turning invisible. He was washing his hands, as one does, and he saw it. Well, more like he saw the lack of it.

“Huh.” He muttered, staring down at his hands. They were... well, they were his hands, except... a little wrong. Just a pretty standard Martin Blackwood hand, just... he could also see the basin through his hands. Probably not good. He wrote it off his eyes playing tricks on him due to lack of sleep, and decided that the best way to fix it was to get some sleep.

Getting to sleep was harder than usual, as he felt he was always too hot, or too cold, or he needed a glass of water. But he had been dealing with that for weeks now, and didn’t see anything strange about it. Nothing a little chamomile couldn’t fix.

When he awoke the next morning, he had forgotten about his situation completely. He went about his day as usual, if not a bit more translucent than most, and didn’t think of it again until he was inspecting a nice peach at the market and... his hand was see-through.

“Shit,” He mumbled under his breath, deciding that he would have to do a bit of research when he got home. He still wasn’t too worried about it though, it didn’t seem like it could be much of a big deal. He had most likely bought the wrong kind of tea again, and had a reaction. As much of a fun idea magic teas were, magic side effects from magic allergic reactions weren’t quite so... magical.

“That’s... weird.” He stared at himself in the mirror, touching a gossamer hand to his face. There was indeed something wrong, he decided as he stared through his face in the mirror and at the wall behind him.

A quick google search told him that what was most likely affecting him was called “the wanderer's fog.” A bit more digging revealed that the technical term was “The Lonely,” which didn’t sound more technical at all.

The Lonely: A curse brought about by dark magic manifesting in the form of loneliness.

Symptoms:

Stage one: apathy, nausea and dizziness

Stage two: lack of sleep

Stage three: fading

Treatments:

Exercise and hydration can help in minor cases. The most surefire way to ward off the Lonely is by spending a week or so with a close friend or family member.

Well, shit. That seemed pretty on the nose, huh? Martin figured he would have to start going on runs and drinking more water, he was sure it would be fine. Just a little dark magic manifesting in him is all.

Martin Blackwood was fine with being a little bit invisible sometimes. He still had a lovely view out his window, he could still smell bread baking when he passed the bakery at the right time. It wasn’t a problem. He was here to observe, really. Being a member of the community wasn’t his forte. He was content living vicariously through birdsongs when he was out early enough to hear. If that meant getting a little bit invisible sometimes, so what?

“Good morning Rosie!” He waves at the woman at reception as he walks into the library Wednesday morning, and she jumps, wide-eyed.

“Ah! I didn’t see you there. Good morning ah...” she looks rattled, as if she hadn’t expected him to come in. “Martin! Martin. Good morning, Martin, how are you today?”

“Oh you know, same soup, just reheated!” He laughs awkwardly, a little hurt that she had forgotten his name. It was not, in fact, the same soup, but whatever. He had worked there for the past two years, and had talked to Rosie every day. This was strange.

He shook it off. It was fine, he supposed. He had tried to go about his usual business, helping students, et cetera. It seemed that no one even noticed he was there. At this point, he was pretty used to the whole ‘being see-through’ thing, but it seemed to manifest more to other people as... his not being there at all. It was disheartening, to say the least. He settled for shelving books. Oh well, no need to bother people, it was a library, after all! He laughed to himself, but it was empty.

He held a book in his right hand, scanning the shelf for where it should go. And then... he wasn’t holding it anymore, and it fell to the floor with a dampened thud. He squinted at the book for a moment, and then his hand, and then the book again. He didn’t drop it, did he? No. He didn’t drop it.

When he tried to pick it back up, he watched as it slowly sunk through his hand, and then fell down again. Maybe this was more of a problem than he thought.


	2. snowflake obsidian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasha time!! Who doesn't love a Sasha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote and edited most of this in class, enjoy

In the end, he decided to visit a witch. Her name was Sasha, and she had been a frequent visitor to the library for a few years. She was self-taught, and liked to read any magic books she could get her hands on. She was really the only person Martin could think to visit, and as much as he hated to just show up unannounced, well... it was all he could come up with.

“Oh, Martin!” Her smile is warm, and she welcomes him inside without a second thought. He was sort of pleasantly surprised she remembered he existed. “How is everything! Did I forget my jacket in the library again? Oh my gosh, I-“

“No! It isn’t you, I uh.. I’ve sort of got a problem, and I’m sorry to bother, but-“

“No, it’s nothing! What’s up?” She sits down on her sofa, gesturing for him to join. She tended to help people with Magic things a lot, and was fairly used to people just... showing up. Her house was inviting, with lots of little trinkets everywhere, lots of warm colors and the lot. Being there eased his nerves. He chuckled to himself as he wondered if she put some kind of anxiety calming charm in her home.

“Well, I’m- I’m surprised you have to ask, um. I’m sort of... disappearing?” He gestures at himself, and she squints her eyes a bit. Something clicks in her mind, and she immediately begins to look very troubled. Why couldn't she see it at first?

“OH!” She gripped the quilt tossed over her sofa, taken aback. “Oh my god, Martin!”

“Haha, whoops!” He shrugged. “Hate it when this happens.” He tries halfheartedly to lighten the mood.

“This has happened before?” She knit her brow. “Because it’s not very common, and I’ve NEVER seen a case like this, and-“

“No, no it’s-“ he sighs. “That was a joke, it’s erm. New to me!” He laughs awkwardly. “Really, NEVER? Can’t be good.”

“I’m going to put the kettle on.” Sasha stands. “Make yourself at home.”

~

After some discussion, Sasha goes rummaging through drawers and flicking through books. She decides the best course of action is to “let a more experienced magic user deal with an issue of this caliber.”

“He can be a bit.. strange?” She nods, as if congratulating herself on the word choice. “He can be a bit strange, but he’s the most talented I’ve met. Jon will know what to do.”

“Alright, thank you, Sasha.” He holds a small slip of paper in his hand, with an address written out in small, orderly letters.

“Oh, it’s no problem, honestly. I’m only upset I couldn’t- OH! Wait, hold on!” She scrambles back off into her door, into a room Martin couldn’t see, and back within seconds. “This!!” She holds up a small black and white rock. “For you.” She presses it into Martins’s palm.

“What is it, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“It’s a snowflake obsidian! It helps release negative energy.” She points to a smaller, similar-looking stone embedded in a silver ring on her pinky. “I’ve got one too! I wish I would have had the time to make you a pendant.. ooh! Or a bracelet!” She grins. “Sorry, another day, not enough time right now. But hopefully it helps!”

“Thank you. Really, it does mean a lot.” He admires the smooth black and white gem glinting in the midday sun.

“Oh, I can imagine.” She gets a faraway look, but shakes it off. “Alright, you’d better get going if you want to arrive by dark. Don’t you dare forget to call!”

“I won’t! Thank you for all your help.” He turns, making his way across her paving stones and back out to the road.

“Don’t mention it!” She calls, shutting the door behind her.

It’s quiet again. Martin has always been one to enjoy the company of others, but lately, he’s been... it’s all seemed a bit too loud. A bit too crowded. He was glad to have the quiet again, if only for a moment.

He had played a game of mental ping-pong between stalling and guilt about stalling. He decides he doesn't want to have to wait for the next train, and getting on somewhat begrudgingly.

He had begun to contemplate his situation, before deciding to shut up his brain, and popped in his earbuds. He drowned out his thoughts, staring out the trains small window. He kept busy, trying to keep up with the trees as they sped past until it began to make his eyes ache.

When he finally got to the house Sasha had guided him to, he decided that he was liking this even less than expected.

He had been standing on the front step, staring daggers at the door. Maybe if he looked hard enough, he would find the solution to this problem written in tiny letters. He didn’t, though, and what instead happened was the door swung open, startling him. This gave Martin no time to prepare what he was going to say, and he spat out whatever he could come up with.

“How did you know I was here?” Great job Martin, very polite. The tired-looking man who had opened the door didn’t seem to be bothered, though. Well, he did, but not particularly by Martin’s confused question, but more like by his being there in the first place.

“Just knew.” He sighed. “Come in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry my writing is so dry at times, I am Learning


	3. One day at a time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon's here! And he sucks, a little bit. He means well, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kind comments! It means a lot

“Well, it isn’t my fault you don’t have anywhere to go!” Jon huffs, as if Martin were wasting his time. Technically he was, but he definitely could have been less of a dick about it.

“I didn’t say it was, I’m just saying that there’s got to be some sort of magic... thingy! That you can do, and-“

“Sometimes magic problems have practical solutions.” He runs a hand through his hair, streaked with grey despite the fact he still looked rather young. “And the solution to ward off the lonely is to.. not be lonely. Pretty simple.”

“Well then, what do you suggest I do?” Martin crosses his arms. “Are you sure that there’s not some kind of-“

“There’s not. I don’t get what’s so hard to understand. You’re going to have to stay here. That’s why Sasha sent you.”

“What? Why here? No offense, but you aren’t the most inviting person I’ve ever met.”

“Sasha doesn’t exactly have the room to support another person in her home. Or the money, really.” He taps his foot against the wood of the floor. “And I owe her quite the favor.”

“Wish she could have told me, instead of just.. throwing me over here. What kind of favor, anyway?”

“I wish she could have given me some warning as well, but here we are!” He gestures a hand, aggravated. “Sorry. That was- uncalled for.”

“A little, yeah.” Martin noticed him deliberately avoiding the question. He would have to ask Sasha about that.

“But it’s alright. I have plenty of spare rooms, and I could use some help with-“

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Jon’s eyebrows scrunch up a little, and he stares at Martin. “What do you mean, no? It’s not-“

“I’m not just going to be your little sympathy roommate. I’ll figure it out on my own, or I’ll.. disappear. Or something. Whatever.”

“You’re not just going to-“ Jon clenches his jaw, clearly frustrated. Martin tries not to feel guilty. “Listen. Nobody else is going to be able to see through it. Even if you found some other stranger that you liked better than me, it’s not that simple. Sasha and I aren’t affected by the lonely, the eye counteracts it. So you.” He points at Martin. “Have to stay here.” He points at the floor.

“What’s the eye?” He asks, choosing to ignore Jon treating him like a child that couldn’t understand the situation.

“It’s what gives us magic. There are these different entities, and they sometimes choose- it doesn’t matter. Things like this don’t affect me. I can see you, no one else can.”

“Well, shit.”

“Yeah.” He sighs. “Really, though. I’m sorry for being such a... hm-“ Martin almost supplies: a prick, but decides to stay quiet. “I’m sorry if I come off as a bit rude, but I’m not just gonna send you off to go fade from reality.”

“How kind.”

“Ok, now you’re the one being rude.” Martin almost cracks a smile, but decides against it.

“So... what, I’m just gonna go home and pack a suitcase? Put on my Sunday best?“

“No, actually, I’d prefer it if you stayed here for the night. You aren’t exactly...” he sighs. “Look, it’s getting dark, and your flat is miles away. You can do whatever you need tomorrow.”

“I don’t even have any pajamas. Gonna conjure me some, magic boy? Gonna throw some linen into a cauldron and-“

“Don’t patronize me. I’m the one letting you stay here-“

“Making me stay here, more like.” Martin corrects. The hostility had left the conversation, but he could tell he was getting on Jon’s nerves a bit. It was a little funny. “Sorry.” He would start being a people pleaser again tomorrow, he decided. It had been a long day.

“Not if you keep up that attitude, I’m not. We’ll figure something out. Three spare bedrooms down that hall, take your pick.” At this, Jon points down a hall and walks off. After all that, he was ready to have any alone time he could get. Well, he supposed that was part of the problem, but oh well.

This Jon guy seemed to be quite the character. On one hand, he did seem genuinely well-meaning, but he was also just... kind of a jerk. Kind of a handsome jerk, though, he noted. Unfortunate.

This house, though, felt.. well it felt weird. It had very little furniture, he even noted that the living room lacked much proper furniture. What he did have, though, was covered in clutter. A desk, littered with papers and trinkets. A worn-in armchair sat next to a coffee table, covered in scuff marks and stains. A bookcase, with a collection of books that had long outgrown its haven. They lay in piles on the floor, on the coffee table, under the desk. Jeez, this guy needed to do some cleaning.

Martin decided that organizing the bookcase would be his goal for tomorrow. He placed a hand in his pocket, running his fingers across the smooth stone that Sasha had given him. One day at a time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this gets out of character so easily LMAO I have to go through like three times when I edit trying to make them more in character while still like. You know


	4. three copies of pride and prejudice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan Sims and his terrible book habits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> therye pretty bad dude, whats up with this guy

“What do you mean ‘dangerous?’ How can organizing your bookcase be dangerous, are you going to push it over on me?” Martin rolls his eyes, watching Jon as he cracks his knuckles. He did that quite a lot, now that Martin thought about it. Nervous habit, maybe.

“No, I’m not going to push the bloody bookcase on you, christ.” Jon says. “I do magic. Dangerous magic. And I have lots of magic books. Which, as you might guess,” he gestured to the shelf, annoyed. “Are dangerous as well. What did you expect to find, books full of sappy poetry?”

“There’s nothing wrong with poetry.” Martin mumbles, being made to feel a bit childish. “Look, I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t know you had all that.. danger. I’m not- I’m not stupid, I-” He takes a breath. “I’m just trying to help.” Jon sits there for a moment, blinking as if adjusting to the light.

“You aren’t stupid, that wasn’t fair of me.” Jon stands up taller, refusing to look at Martin. "But I don't need your help."

“Are you going to clean it?” Martin asks. He looks at Jon, and Jon looks back. It almost feels like a contest, and Martin looks away before he can see who blinks first. “Because it’s... pretty unorganized.” He laughs nervously.

“I suppose it is.” Martin almost thinks he sees a smile. “If you must, there are gloves under the sink. Do not open any of the books. Under any circumstance. Do you hear me?”

“Loud and clear.” Martin grins. “How do you want them, alphabetical?” Jon makes a face, as if the thought of an organized shelf was disgusting to him.

“Do whatever you like. I’ll see you at dinner.” Martin’s heart swelled at that, although he wasn't sure why. He and Jon had eaten dinner yesterday, and it hadn’t even been particularly pleasant. It had been awkward, and they had only had mediocre pasta, so it’s not like he had much to look forward to. Maybe it was the thought of having someone to eat dinner with again. Dinner with his mum had never been pleasant when she was still around. After she passed he still felt terribly lonely sitting at a table all by himself. After a while, he stopped using the dining room.

~~~

Jon had really managed to make it seem like he was housing many evil, terrible tomes full of... spiders or something. Ok, there were a few weird ones in there. Even a few that Martin felt warranted the gloves, but that was only about a quarter of everything on the shelf. He had quite the variety.

The next time Jon came in, Martin was about wrapping up. Actually, he was already finished, but had heard Jon coming and had wanted an excuse to avoid eye contact.

“No sappy poetry, huh?” He pulls a book out of the shelf. The Complete Poems Of Emily Dickson.

“Oh, shut up.” Martin steals a glance, to notice Jon’s face going a bit red. He chuckles. “She’s one of the greatest poets of all time. Did you know she was a botanist?”

“I didn’t.” Martin giggles. “Ok, so we’ve got the creepy books all on the bottom shelf, which I have no idea why you keep, by the way.” Martin points. “And then we have the nonfiction, and then the fiction, and then all the.. informative stuff? Textbooks and all that. Encyclopedias. Thesauruses. I’m also pretty sure you had an atlas, which-“

“What about the ones on the... floor?” Jon looks down, at the neat stacks of books Martin had discarded there.

“Those are the ones I thought you could get rid of. You can look through them, of course. It’s mostly outdated stuff, why have you been buying farmers almanacs so consistently? Also, why did you buy pride and prejudice THREE TIMES-“

“Enough questions, Martin, thank you. I've got a garden, I like to keep track of the- whatever. Thank you.”

“Three copies?”

“I kept losing them ok? And h wasn’t finished yet so I- bought.. more. So if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got things to be doing.”

“Alright.” Martin says. He wanted to say more, to ask, ‘what do you want me to do with the books? Where’s your garden? What have you been doing holed away in your room all day? Can I borrow this?’ But he doesn’t. He’s craving the silence again, to be alone with his thoughts. He should go for a walk.

Jon starts to walk out of the room, but he hesitates. For a moment, he only stands there.

“What is it?” Jon says, turning to face him. His tone isn’t aggressive, but it isn’t friendly, either. It’s expecting.

“What do you mean?”

“You had something you wanted to say, but you didn’t. That’s not good for your condition.” He puts a hand on his hip. “What is it?”

“I-“ Martin feels a bit embarrassed. He doesn’t like that creepy... thing Jon does. “If you’re so good at- looking in my head, why don’t you find out?”

“I don’t want to.” Jon looks kind of upset at his words, and Martin feels an immediate surge of guilt. “I didn’t mean to find out, I just... I noticed, so I said something. I don’t want you getting worse just because I’m... uninviting.” Uninviting is one word for it, Martin thinks. He then gets a thought in the back of his mind, hopefully, Jon didn’t hear that.

“Ok, fine.” Martin takes a deep breath. “Can I borrow it? Your poetry books, I um- I really enjoy-“

“Of course. You can have them if you like.“ Martin grins. Jon’s collection was limited, but until people could tell he was there, he couldn’t exactly go to the store. At least he was getting to where he could hold things again.

“Thank you! Are you.. are you sure?”

“I don’t read books again once I’ve read them, and I don’t really like libraries. Don’t like using things that don’t belong to me.” That was... an unusual sentiment. Martin doesn’t bring up that he used to work at one. Well, he technically never resigned, actually. Works at one? “Is that all?”

“Um- where’s your garden?” Martin had always liked plants, though he could never keep them alive himself. After a while, he stopped trying. He felt too guilty, buying them just to let them die.

“I’ll show you later tonight.” Jon smiles, like actually smile. Martin might have felt his heart jitter. "It's loveliest at sunset, I think."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JON HAS A GARDEN FUCK W ME. YOU CANNOT CHANGE MY MIND


	5. color-coordinated guest bedroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin Blackwood is homosexual

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> literally just wrote this as a coping mechanism for school stress and this chapter really should have had more plot in it but alas. I'm just a little fruity and I have too many feelings

When Martin first got a crush on Jon, he didn’t notice it at all. Jon had taken him out to the garden.

“Mint is actually quite good for keeping out bugs, like spiders and mosquitos. God, I hate spiders. The only problem is, right? Since they repel pests you’d think they’d be a good companion plant, but actually, they’re quite invasive! So you have to be very careful, I like to keep mine in these little hanging containers. I’ve positioned it to where it keeps the majority of the sun off of my lemon balm, as it actually grows quite well in shade. Also! When you-“ Martin tunes out completely.

It’s interesting stuff, sure, but he can’t help getting distracted. The setting sun did wonders for Jon’s skin, making it almost seem to glow. His eyes lit up when he spoke, and he could barely see past the walls Jon had been putting up since he arrived.

Martin remembers thinking: wouldn’t it be funny if I got a crush on Jon?

Oh, how life liked to play little tricks on him.

He couldn’t sleep. He had trouble the first few days, sure, but tonight was extra bad. It was dark out, past dark out, but he couldn’t. The guest room was meant to be inviting, he was sure, but it only felt cold. It was meticulously decorated, paintings that complimented the wallpaper and all that. It had a very separate feeling from the rest of the house, like it hadn’t been lived in in years. It most likely hadn’t. Jon definitely wouldn’t have decorated a color-coordinated guest bedroom. He probably couldn’t, even if he wanted to.

When he crept down the hall at fuck o'clock in the morning, he definitely wasn’t expecting Jon to be up. More than that, he wasn’t expecting him to be sitting on the floor. He seemed to be zoned out completely, staring at a blank wall.

He considers saying nothing at all, sneaking out the door and hoping he was gone by the time Martin was back. He didn’t, though.

“Jon? Are you... alright?” He half whispers, getting no response. “Jon?” Jon gasps, seemingly being snapped out of... whatever he was doing over there.

“What? Oh, Martin! Don’t sneak up to me when I’m... doing that.” Jon stretches. He must have been sitting there for a while. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What exactly... is that? That you were doing?” He helps Jon off of the floor. “Haven’t you slept?”

“Oh, yes, I... I don’t much care for sleeping. I like being able to.. know. What’s going on.” He clears his throat. “Haven’t you slept?” He retaliates.

“Couldn’t.” Martin shrugs. “Was going to go for a walk, instead. Care to join me?”

“Yes, alright, sure.”

As they walked, Jon did most of the talking. Martin liked it better that way. He enjoyed it when Jon got on his little informative tangents. He would rattle on about anything, and he almost seemed like a normal human being for once. This time, his subject of choice was constellations.

“Farmers were the first to use the constellations, actually. In some places, the changing of seasons was too subtle. The farmers depended on the stars to know when it was time to plant and when the time was right to harvest. Did you know that 25 percent of confirmed constellation names start with a C? The- SHIT!” Jon exclaims, promptly tripping on a hole and falling into the grass. Martin comes tumbling after him, and they lay side by side on the ground.

“Jon,” Martin laughs, “are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m... Fine.” He scoffs. “Humiliated, but fine.” Martin laughs more. “Stop laughing!” Jon says, trying to fight the smile from his own voice.

“Who, me? I’m not laughing.” He sits up, trying to wipe the dirt from his hands. “We should probably turn back, shouldn’t we?”

“You’ll have to go on without me, I’m going to decompose over here.” Jon throws a hand up, letting it flop dramatically onto the grass beside him. “I’ve made a fool out of myself, and now I am going to let it consume me.”

“Oh come on, if I don’t get to die, neither do you.” He reasons. And then he looks over at Jon, bathed in moonlight. There’s a bit of mud smudged on his neck, and he’s got bags under his eyes so dark he almost looked sickly. And boy, did Martin want to kiss him, just then. A few days in his house and Martin’s already gotten a crush, christ. Not good. “Let’s go back.” He gets off the ground, dusting himself off. “You need to get some sleep.”

“So do you.”

“Fair enough.”

Well, shit. It was fine, though. It would turn out fine. Soon enough, Jon would start acting nasty again, and it would all go away.

Jon never did end up going to sleep, as far as Martin knew. When they got back, Jon insisted he stay up, so Martin made them both tea. They talked for a little while longer, their voices and thoughts tinged with delirium. Jon made a few comments about hating grocery shopping. Martin made a few jokes about how Jon should “magic the groceries right into the cupboards.” Martin yawned a goodnight, wandered down the hall, and fell right asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cue me missing Tim and trying to think of a way to incorporate him into the story


	6. hypothetically

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's the magics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the weird upload schedule its finals time :(

“How would you feel about learning how to practice magic?” Jon absentmindedly pushed a meatball across his plate. Martin noticed he didn’t eat much. “Hypothetically, of course.”

“I’m not super sure. I mean, it seems like there aren’t many negative side effects, it’s just something most people can’t do.” Martin shrugged. “It depends, I guess. Like, Sasha seems fine with the whole thing, but you seem... I mean no offense, but it doesn’t seem like you handle it very well.”

“So let’s say the situation is no longer hypothetical, and I can teach you magic.” Jon doesn’t acknowledge Martin's comment. “How would you feel about that?”

“Why’d you say it was hypothetical if it wasn’t?”

“I don’t know.” Jon shrugged. It was silent for a moment too long, and then Martin spoke.

“I thought you had to be like, marked, or something? By the big spooky eye being or whatever. You never explained it.”

“Do you want me to?”

“I mean... yeah? If I’m going to... yes. Yes, I think you should.” Martin nods. As cool as magic seemed, he didn’t want to serve some dark god, all sitting on the floor in the dark instead of sleeping.

“Ok, so. There are powers. I was marked by the eye, it’s a being of knowledge. Generally, ninety percent of the ‘magic users’ you’ll come across are marked by the eye.” Jon fidgets. “People used to think eye users were weak, because they didn’t come with a lot of the, er... perks? Of other powers, but our gift of knowledge let’s us make magic items and other things like that. So now, we’re considered one of the more powerful ah... classes?”

“Okay.” Martin says, not getting it at all. “So, how do I factor into all this? I mean, I’m just a guy.”

“Not really. You were marked by the lonely.”

“I thought that was like, a magic disease or something? Not some kind of new magic superpower that lets me do cool shit.”

“I mean, for most people, it is closer to that, I guess. But you’re getting better, now. And you’ll have the mark forever.” He wonders if Jon meant for that to sound unsettling.

“Okay, I guess.” He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “I still don’t get how this will get me any sort of magic.”

“I’m getting there.” Jon snaps. “So, the eye is generally considered the most powerful. People marked by any powers have unique abilities, though. Most people only experience the side effects, and don't learn to harness them. But you have me, so... now you can do stuff?”

“Like turning invisible?” Martin jokes, glancing down at his still translucent hand. He looks back up at Jon, who nods. “Oh, piss off. This doesn’t count as an ability, it’s-“

“That’s because you can’t control it.” Jon interrupts. “Anybody who's marked can learn basic energy manipulation. Since you’re going to be staying here for a while longer, I figured it’s the least I can do.”

“So... you get to make cool magic items and stuff, and I get to.. turn invisible, but on purpose this time?” Martin rolls his eyes.

“I mean, these type of things tend to manifest in all kinds of ways, I’m sure you’ll figure out some other things on the way. ” Jon stands, not bothering to finish his food, or put away his plate at all. “Come see me later, if you’re interested.”

Martin didn’t say anything at that. Frankly, he was interested, and he was pretty sure Jon knew that. He knew a conversation ender when he saw one, though. He caught a fleeting wish that Jon would stay, and he shoved it away.

He really hoped Jon never saw any of these... thoughts about him. Jon himself said he didn’t like looking into people’s heads. With that kind of power, what kind of person does it take to ignore it? Martin supposed he was glad his dumb entity was one that had less cool benefits.

“So you’re ready?”

“I mean, yeah? I think so.” They sit cross-legged across from each other on Jon’s bedroom floor. It was the messiest room in the house. Knick-knacks and teacups lay on any available surface. “You need to clean in here.”

“Wow. You know, I’m going to change my mind on this whole thing very fast if you keep having an attitude.” Jon snickers. “Here.” Jon holds his hand out, palms facing Martin.

“Like this?” Martin mirrors him, raising his right hand. Jon snorts, and before Martin can take a moment to appreciate it, Jon presses his hand against Martins.

Martin drinks in the moment. Jon’s tired, but comfortable. He looks that way, at least. His long hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail. A bit towards the front had come loose and hung over Jon’s face, framing it nicely. The room smelled of lavender and incense, and Jon’s hand is cool against his. Jon’s fingers were long and slender, but he was still the smaller of the two. His fingertips didn’t quite reach Martins. He wonders what it would be like to properly-

“Are you alright? You look a bit.. far off.”

“Oh! Yes, of course. Why are we doing this, again?” He glances at their hands, and then at Jon.

“We’re working on getting you used to moving energy,” Jon tells him. “It tends to come from a different place in everyone, so to start we’re going to try and find yours.”

“Where’s yours?”

“Watch,” Jon says, and he closes his eyes. In the center of Jon’s forehead, there’s a green, pulsating light. It comes from somewhere beneath the skin, beyond the bone. It reminds Martin of a heartbeat. The light flows down, through Jon’s neck, to his shoulder, and down his arm. Martin watches, astonished, as the light approaches his hand. When it reaches his hand, the light dissipates, but he can feel the energy move through him, almost up to his forearm. It reminded Martin of the feeling of plunging your hand into a river, and as soon as it came, it was gone again.

“Wicked.” Martin whispers, staring at Jon, who was now back to normal. “That was so amazing! I-“

“No it wasn’t, that was supposed to.. that was supposed to work.” He says, perplexed.

“I mean, it looked like it worked to me, very.. glowey. Like? One of the coolest things I’ve seen. It kind of reminds me of-“

“I wasn’t just showing off, it was supposed to go through you, to your core. It wouldn’t... go.”

“Ah... sorry? Maybe it won’t work cause of the whole... Lonely, or whatever.” He reasoned.

“That wasn’t it. You’re closed off.” Jon says. “You’re scared.”

“What? No, I’m not.” He lies. He’s sitting on Jon’s bedroom floor, and his hand is still pressed against Jon’s. He wants to stay like this, and he’s afraid of that thought. It is dangerous to want, because every so often a want becomes a have. You can coddle a want, you can suffocate it or ignore it. In the end, it doesn’t matter, because at its core, yearning is just that. Wanting is looking at the stars. A have is something fragile, something you can’t shout at or smother or write home about. A have is something you earned, something you were given. You have to fight for the things you have if you want to keep them. Wanting is looking at the stars, and having is being among them. Martin Blackwood is afraid to fall from his place in the sky. “I’m not scared.” He reiterated.

“Do you trust me?” Jon asks. Martin’s first thought is to say no. How could he, when I haven’t even known you for a month?

“Yes.” Comes out of his mouth instead, almost as if it was pulled out of him. It’s true, isn’t it? It feels right when he says it.

“Ok. Then let’s try this again.” Jon smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *completely bullshits a magic system because I didn't think that far ahead* see? fantasy


	7. Tim and his little bag of rocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim pays a visit because I missed him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *logs into ao3* you know I'm something of an archivist myself

“Why do you always wait to bring me my tea?” Jon asks, not looking up from his notebook. 

“What do you mean?” Martin says, setting the aforementioned tea down. He suspects no one had used these coasters before he got here, considering the stains on every table.

“Once it’s done, you always wait. Anywhere from a minute to five minutes. You just stand there.”

“I told you, don’t look in my-“

“Wasn’t looking in your head, I was looking in my kitchen. That’s why I’m asking, instead of knowing.” He sets the notebook down, looking up to Martin. “So... why do you do that?”

“You always burn your mouth” He shrugs. “You don’t wait for it to cool down, you get impatient, and you always burn your mouth. So I wait for it to cool down before I bring it to you.”

Jon scoffs. “You don’t know that.” 

“Yes, I do. The same thing happens every time. You smile, you take it, you take a drink, and then you grimace and try not to look like you just burnt your mouth. But you did, and so I-“

“Yes, alright, point taken. Thank you.”

“Why were you so busy peeping on me in your kitchen anyway? Don’t you need to.. you know, focus? Do your little shiny trick?”

“It’s a protection spell, I’ve made dozens.” He waves his hand in dismissal. “Plus, the actual charm isn’t even-“ the doorbell rings. “Speak of the devil.”

“I’ll get it,” Martin smiles. “leave you to your work.” He turns.

“Wait, Martin,” Jon calls after him. “you know he might not be able to... you know.” See you. Jon shifts in his seat, and Martin hesitates. 

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” He waves it off, going to answer the door. The doorbell rang again impatiently on his way over, until Martin opened the door, and saw a young man.

“Jon?” The man calls, looking confusedly through Martin. “I’ve got your, ah...” he shakes a small leather pouch, and something clicks around inside it. “Little rocks?”

“Hello!” Martin waves, unsure. The man standing in the doorway jumps back, now noticing Martin had been there the entire time.

“Hey!” He recovers. “Gave me a spook there. Nice to meet you, I’m Tim.” He holds his free hand out for Martin to shake.

“I’m Martin.” He takes his hand and shakes it, glad that while he may still be hard to perceive, he’s at least back to being solid. 

“So... what are you doing here?” Tim squints at him, and then backtracks. “I mean that in the nicest way possible, it’s just... well, Jon doesn’t have people over much.”

“I’m...” he struggles to find the words. Stuck in his house and hopelessly in love with him? Basically a squatter? Literally only here because he had nowhere else to go? “A... friend.” He settles on.

“A friend?” Tim reiterates, not sounding convinced. 

“A friend.” Jon’s voice comes from behind him. “He’s staying here for a while, don’t think anything of it.” He puts a hand on Martin’s shoulder, and Martin tries his very hardest not to react.

“Cool.” Tim nods, handing over the bag he had been carrying. “Well Martin, welcome to the club. Have you already met Sasha? Probably not, Jonathan here is very rude, and he doesn’t like to pay us any visits, so-“

“We met through Sasha, so yes,” Jon says, sounding exasperated. “Thank you, Tim.”

“You’re welcome, Jonny!”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“Well, as much as I’d like to stay and chat, it’s cold as balls out here, and I’d very much like to be getting home.” Tim salutes, stepping back down the stairs. “Nice meeting you, Martin! Don’t let him bore you to death.”

“Jonny, really?” Martin laughs.

“Not a word.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry my plot is kinda all over the place I am literally just doing my own thing over here


	8. Jogging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon is acting very suspicious and Martin is having his own little moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ones short, because it was actually supposed to be TWO chapters according to my brain but then I just did not have that much to say either time. Almost did three but you know

When the front door burst open, Martin did screech like a little boy. He’ll admit that much.

“JON?” He scrambled to his feet. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you all day!”

“Out.” He said through labored breaths. He was stabilizing himself on the doorway, much sweatier than usual, and wearing the same thing martin thinks he was wearing yesterday. 

“Out?” Martin closes the door behind Jon, leading him to the kitchen. He needed to get some water in this poor, dehydrated man. “Where exactly could you have been ‘out’ that has you looking like you’ve entered a horse race?” He pours a glass of water. “As a horse, I mean. That was a weird thing to say. My point is, you look awful.”

“You know. Jogging.” Jon takes the water from him, gratefully gulping it down. Martin puts his hands on his hips. 

“Jogging, right.” He looks Jon up and down. “You know, jogging in a sweater vest, like a normal person would do! Great.” 

“Yes, exactly.” Jon pretends not to notice the passive aggressive sarcasm seeping from martins voice. “Here, this is for you.” He hands Martin a pendant. It’s a smooth blue stone, carved meticulously into the shape of an eye. 

“What?” 

“Goodnight.” Jon says, unhelpfully. With this, he turns around and leaves. Martin watches him go in confusion and worry.

“It’s like... three in the afternoon?” Martin calls after him. He sighs, and slips the pendant around his neck.

Martin spends the rest of the day trying not to worry about Jon’s suspicious behavior. He’s home safe now, and that’s what matters. Right? Yes. Jon doesn’t have to tell him everything, so if he wants to go off adventuring without Martin, fine by him. Whatever. Keep your secrets. 

~

The next day was as normal as ever, and Martin hated it. Martin had pressed him for details, but Jon had replied with something stupid, like “what is there to talk about? Can a man not go for a jog?” and Martin had stopped wearing himself out with it after that.

Jon has further explained the pendant, it was a protection charm Jon had been working on for a while. It was made of fluorite, and Jon went on some informative spiel about what it did.

Dinner was where things went sideways. Jon bought wine. 

“What’s the occasion?” Martin joked, not really thinking there was one. Jon looked up at him, confused.

“Did you not notice? You’re...” Jon gestures at him with his fork. “better.” After a moment of confusion, Martin glances down and realizes that Jon is right. He’s all there now.

He feels like he should be happy, he really does, but he feels more like he’s done something wrong. 

“Oh!” Is all he says. He grips his glass tighter. He doesn’t want to leave. He could just say so much, but it seems so childish, and he feels so childish, and he doesn’t. That was the whole reason he’s here, he had just gotten carried away, is all. He’s going home. He tries to be happy. He’s going home. He wishes it felt more like he was going home and less like he was leaving it. 

“So... congrats!” Jon says, trying to fill the silence. 

“Yeah, thank you.” He forces a smile. “I’ll be out of your hair by tomorrow, I promise. I’ve got to finish organizing that spice cabinet first thought, you...” he taps his foot, nervously. “I wouldn’t want to leave you with a half organized spice cabinet!” He laughs, and it sounds more bitter than it meant for it to.

“There’s no rush,” Jon tells him. “I’ll miss you.” 

“I...” Martin thinks of a million things he could say to that, but it feels like all his thoughts are very loud. “Yes.” He says instead, staring into his reflection in his wine. 

“Don’t forget to visit!” Jon protests against the silence. “And take good care of yourself, too. And! And don’t forget to practice your magic, you’ve really made quite a bit of progress, and-“

“Yes, thank you Jon.” He stands up, leaving his food unattended at the table. “I don’t feel so great, I think I’m going to have a lie down.”

“Alright.” Jon says, sounding defeated. Martin can feel guilt creeping into his chest, and he elects to ignore it. “Goodnight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short and not that good chapter but content is content I prommy I have stuff planned for this


	9. ROAD TRIP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan sims please stop getting kidnapped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It always feels weird posting on an actual episode day like haha hey... how are you guys doing...... anyway here’s MY thing

When Martin woke up that morning, Jon was nowhere to be seen. Martin looked everywhere he could think to look. He checked every room, and he waited for hours. He even asked the nearest neighbor if they had seen him. (They hadn’t even recognized his name, so no luck there.)

His first instinct was to be sad. Of course Jon wasn’t here. Of course, he was about to be alone again, and Jon didn’t even care enough to say goodbye. He had done what he needed to do, and now he was waiting until Martin was gone. He supposed it was fair. Martin had only been taking up space for months, and Jon must be so relieved to see him go.

But no, that couldn’t be right. 

Jon did care. Of course he cared. He wouldn’t leave like this. He may not feel the same way Martin does, but he cares. Jon cares. Something had to be wrong, he knew it. Maybe it had to do with why he had disappeared the other day?

He ended up calling Sasha. He felt a bit guilty, he had promised to call her months ago and he never had. And now here he was again, asking for her help when she really had no reason to help him. This was for Jon, though, and he dialed her number anyway.

“Oh, Martin! It’s so nice to hear from you! Jon told me you-“ Her voice came through the speaker, almost obnoxiously cheery. It felt like taking a cheese grater to Martin’s brain after sitting alone and quiet all day.

“Jon’s missing.” He interrupts her. The words hang in the air for a moment.

“Missing?” Sasha asks. “Are you sure he isn’t just... I don’t know, off doing his Jon thing?”

“Yes, he’s just gone! I know he likes to go off sometimes but he wouldn’t do that today, I know he wouldn’t. I’m leaving today. I’m going home, and he’s... nowhere! He’s left me here, and I don’t-“

“Martin, breathe.” She says. “Tell me what happened, has he been gone for long?”

“Four hours. I mean, as far as I know. He’s been gone since I woke up.” He paces about the room.

“Has he been acting... weird? Lately?”

“Yes! Yes, he’s been acting so suspicious, and it’s... and it’s weird, yeah! I thought it might have something to do with this, and you’ve got the eye stuff like he does, so I was hoping you would... know. Or something. I’m not sure.” He sighs. “Yes. Acting weird, definitely.”

“Disappearing and then coming back looking like he’s just invented a new circle of hell?”

“Yes, I would... yeah. That. Only once, that I know of. He would never tell me what it was”

“Martin, promise not to freak out when I tell you this. I’m not trying to alarm you, but...” She trails off.

“...but?” He coaxes. She stays quiet. “Ok, fine. I promise. Whatever, just- if you know anything about where he is, please tell me.”

“I think Jon has been kidnapped again.”

“AGAIN?” He splutters. “Wha- why? And by who? And what do you mean again?”

“I’ll tell you more in the car, I’m coming to get you.”

“You’re kidding, right? You’re going to drop that on me and then leave? Why are you coming to get me, anyway?”

“We’re going to save Jon, obviously.” Martin hears shuffling about from the other line. “See you in a few!”

She hangs up, and Martin is alone in the house again. He guesses this is going to be his day today.

~

When he gets outside, Sasha’s car is pulled haphazardly into the driveway. When Tim sees him come out the door, he reaches over Sasha’s lap and honks the horn at him.

Inside the car, Sasha tells Tim something Martin can’t hear, and Tim gets out of the car, looking annoyed.

“Sasha banished me to the back of the car.” He says dejectedly, gesturing to his now vacant seat.

“Martin deserves it. He’s never even had to go on a rescue mission before, he’s very shaken up about it.”

“Aw, don’t worry Marto!” Since when was ‘marto’ a thing? “it’ll all end up fine. We usually don’t find out he’s gone so quick anyway, so he’s got to deal with it himself.”

“Um.... alright?” He shuts the door behind him. The pair seems much too calm about this. Even troublingly so.

“Seatbelts, boys!” Sasha backs out of the driveway and drives on. After a moment of no one volunteering to talk about it, Martin takes some initiative.

“So... what’s with the whole, Jon getting kidnapped thing? Is this a regular occurrence or something?”

“I mean, pretty much. I wouldn’t say regular, like, this is no book club, but at least a few times a year.” Tim says from the back.

“WHY?” Martin asks.

“Alright.” Sasha begins. “So he’s told you about the entities, yeah?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry chapters are coming out slow! I’ve had all kinds of bullshit going on and I will continue to do so for like 2 months sorry


	10. Martin has his hot boy summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody watch out here he fuckin comes. Martin is here to save the day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this suck? Yeah. Am I posting it anyway? Fuck yes I am nobody said it had to be good

“Oh my god, is he DEAD?” Martin tugs at the car door, but Sasha doesn’t unlock it. Outside the car, there’s a clearing. In this clearing, Jonathan Sims is lying unconscious on the ground. People in robes are circling around him, hands interlocked. Not the kind of thing you expected to see in broad daylight.

“Relax, he's just knocked out. We’re going to go get him.” Sasha said as if she were talking about a toddler, instead of a grown man laying face down in the grass.

“They don’t look desolation. What’s the backup plan?” Tim says. He puts down his plank of wood with nails stuck in it, which was for some reason going to be a part of the original plan.

“Um...wing it?” Sasha decides. “Pick that back up, let’s get in there before they notice us.”

“Guys?” Martin tries, to no avail.

“Sasha, I think they already noticed us, it’s an empty field. They’re  
ignoring us.”

“Maybe they’re in a trance or something, I don’t-“

“GUYS,” Martin says, a little more forcefully this time. They turn to listen. “So, what? We go in there and get their asses? Apparently, there was a whole plan I wasn’t aware of, and-“

“Oh, don’t worry about it. You stay in the car.” Sasha waves him off, reaching over his lap and pulling a taser out of her glove department. Why was that in there?

“What? You’re going to leave me in here like a kid?” He huffs. “I can help!”

“We’d rather you stay here, where it’s safe.” Tim agrees. “Safe...ish.” He corrects himself. “Listen- we don’t want to get Jon mad at us. He wouldn’t want you out there amidst all the danger.”

“Well, I don’t think it matters what Jon wants, since he’s UNCONSCIOUS OVER THERE. SURROUNDED BY WEIRD CULTISTS OR SOMETHING-“

“They stopped moving.” Sasha scrunches her eyebrows. “That can’t be good. End of discussion, sorry Martin. Stay here.”

And with that, they left Martin in the car. He watched through the windshield. Outside the car, the hooded figures turn to face Tim and Sasha. One lunges towards Sasha while another attempts to disarm Tim. Sasha dodges, tasing the one aiming for Tim. She’s grabbed from behind, though, and is thrashing around as she’s held captive. Tim makes a move for the one holding Sasha, before realizing that he would also hit Sasha. He fumbles, as the figures close in. Jon is still unconscious on the ground. There’s lots of shouting.

One of them just looked at Martin. His fist clenches, his heart pounds, and he’s frozen. He sucks air through his teeth.

The hooded figure looks confused for a moment, then looks away. What? Martin takes a moment. He looks around, down at himself, and back up. He’s invisible again.

He panics for a moment about if that was some kind of magic instinct, or if he’s going to be stuck like this again. He pushes that back and looks around him. How can he help? He’s got to do something.

Outside the car, the one who saw him is whispering to another one of the figures. Sasha is held tight, and Tim is struggling against the two figures attempting to restrain him.

Oh god. Two of them are walking towards the car. He has to do something, but if he opens any of the doors, he has a feeling someone will figure out what’s going on. Fuck.

In a moment of impulsive yet resourceful thinking; he climbs over the center console into the driver's seat. Now, he hasn’t driven a car before, but he’s been in enough to know how to make it go.

He shifts the car into drive and presses his foot on the gas. He isn’t very sure how far or fast he needs it to go, but he tries his best not to hit his friends with a car. He counts four figures before he stomps the brakes in a panic. Did that person turn into a bunch of spiders??

For Jon’s sake, he’s rather glad he’s still knocked out. Martin vaguely becomes aware of the fact that he’s visible again. For a lack of better ideas, he gets out of the car, sprinting through the wave of spiders toward Jon. The spiders aren’t as crunchy underfoot as you would imagine, but the crunch was present (and not great.)

He scoops Jon off the ground, tossing him sort of precariously over one shoulder. Sasha has scrambled free in the panic, and she’s looking between Tim and Martin.

Tim still has one person holding him down, but the other has gone somewhere in the mess. Despite this, without either of their weapons, Sasha wasn’t sure how to retrieve him.

He nods to Sasha as if to say ‘I’ve got this’. He didn’t have it, but he hoped he could figure it out in the five seconds it would take to get over to where Tim was.

He didn’t figure something out.

He sort of punched the guy in the face? Although it didn’t feel like a face. It felt a little bit like punching a bean bag chair. He was struggling to keep Jon hoisted on his shoulder at this point. He kicked the guy off Tim a bit further for good measure, then made a break for the car.

Sasha was in the driver's seat ready to go, and thankfully, thought to pop the trunk. He unceremoniously dumped Jon in, slamming the trunk shut as Tim climbed into the front seat.

After the whole maneuver he pulled, Martin felt he rather deserved to keep his place in the front. He recognized that now wasn’t the time to voice these concerns, though. He barely got time to close his door before Sasha was getting them the hell out of there.

“FUCK.” Tim shouted. Martin felt that summed it up pretty well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you guys have any fucking idea how long I’ve been waiting for Martin to commit vehicular manslaughter


	11. we're dealing with it now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Folks Talk About Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOO BOY meant to post this yesterday but rehearsal has been wacko as fuck folks

“You hit Annabelle Cain with your car?” Jon looks incredulously between the group gathered in his living room. 

“My car.” Sasha corrects. She sits cross-legged, and Tim steals another drink from her mug. They’re all sat in a circle on the floor of Jon’s living room, drinking tea and summing up the events of yesterday.

“You should have seen it!” Tim throws his hands up. “They like, nerfed us, alarmingly fast. I was all like ‘SASHAA NOO’ and Martin was all- “ Tim makes car sounds with his mouth. “And then he got out and he grabbed you. And he was holding you over his shoulder in like the most disrespectful possible way-“

“Sorry about your glasses, didn’t even realize they fell off.” Martin interjects.

“It’s fine, who cares, he can get new ones, anyway and so that’s why you were in the trunk. Didn’t have the time, we got in the car and BOOKED it.”

“Tim kept insisting we get frozen yogurt on the way back,” Sasha adds. “We didn’t.”

“Wow,” Jon says. Tim makes a sound of agreement. “That’s... wow, yeah. Thank you.”

“I think you have some explaining to do.” Martin crosses his arms. “You get kidnapped? FREQUENTLY?” 

“It’s not frequent, it’s just... more than most people do.” He defends. “Sorry. It’s... didn’t want to worry you. I was trying to.. not do that?”

“Well, you should have tried not getting kidnapped before you worried about me. Explain, now.”

“You’re well, you aren’t exactly being 100% truthful with me, either.” Jon says. Martin's heart drops.

“I told you not to-“

“I didn’t! I don’t know what it is, but I can... feel it. It’s been there for a long time, and I was hoping you would tell me eventually, but you-“

“Should we go?” Sasha interrupts. Martin's face heats up. He kind of forgot they were there. 

“Yes, please.” He says. “Sorry.” They get up and shuffle awkwardly out to the garden. “You have to go first.”

“Why should I have to-“

“Because I said.” Martin says. Jon sighs, giving up fairly fast. Martin wasn’t mad, exactly. He was more nervous about the whole ordeal. 

“Okay, so. Long story short? Sometimes there are magic people who are... evil? And trying to do... evil shit. So I sort of.” He shrugs. “Get in their business and make sure their stuff doesn’t work right.”

“And so I’m guessing people don’t like it when you do that?”

“No,” Jon confirms. “And they used to always try and kill me, but now it’s sort of like... most of them don’t actually care about me dying, so they try and like... pawn me off to people who want to kill me even more. It’s a whole thing.” Jon says. “Your turn.”

“That’s... what? You’re gonna be like ‘oh yeah lots of people want me dead super bad.’ And then leave it at that?” 

“I mean, if you want to stall more you can, but I think it would be best we got this over with.” He sighs. Stalling? He’s not stalling. Asshole. “Hold on. TIM!” 

A muffled “fuck.” Comes from the back door, presumably from Tim. Martin chuckles. 

“He was listening in, nosy bastard. Figured you might want a little bit of privacy.” 

“Nosy bastard, huh? Reminds me of someone.” Martin raises his eyebrows. Jon snorts in response.

“Fair enough.” 

“Ok, whatever. Ripping off the bandaid here. Just gonna...” he sighs. “This is very difficult, you know that?” Jon doesn’t respond. “Fine. So maybe I‘m in love with you.” He fidgets. “Whoops?”

“Oh.” Jon nods. “Cool.” It’s silent for a moment. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Martin says. “What does ‘cool’ mean?” He is really reconsidering being in love with this guy, he sucks. “You are a very difficult person to be around.”

“I’ve heard.” Jon sighs. “I was expecting it to be a problem of some sort." He says. "I sort of, feel a... similar... way. About that... situation. The whole, you know.”

“Wait, what?” Martin asks. Several puzzle pieces click together in his brain, and he smiles.

“Well, we can deal with this later, Tim and Sasha are-“

“We’re dealing with it now.” 

“We’re dealing with it now.” He nods, not in the mood for an argument. “What exactly do we need to deal with?”

“I just want to hear you admit it.” He admits. Jon mumbles something about Martin being a smug asshole, and Martin pretends he didn’t hear it. 

“Fine,” Jon says, sounding very similar to a child being told to clean their room. “At first you pissed me off pretty bad, but I think it was because I was mad I had to help. Then I realized you were actually very handsome and nice to be around, and it only got worse from there.” He says, all in one breath. “Happy?” 

“Good enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're gonna talk more abt it I prommy this is just where we are leaving it for today


End file.
